


Nineteen candles

by foggysundays



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday Party, Boys Kissing, Fluff, M/M, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 05:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12074559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggysundays/pseuds/foggysundays
Summary: Sam insists that Dean has to come visit and attend Sam´s birthday party, so he drops everything and gets his ass to California. The only problem: he´s going to meet Sam´s shiny new College friends and of course none of them have any idea that their relationship is more than just a little unorthodox.





	Nineteen candles

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this :D I hope it brings you a tiny bit of joy!

Dean pulls the Impala into the parking spot next to the pretentious douchebag Ferrari (Seriously, the owner of that car is _definitely_ compensating for something…) and brusquely kills the engine.

Warm sunlight pours in through the windows, the sweet smell of early summer heavy in the air around him. The girls outside are already flaunting their miniskirts, showing off miles of tanned skin and enough cleavage to earn them a headshake from the little flock of ancient grandmas drinking tea in the small café across the street.

A cute red-head throws him a flirty wink when he gets out of the car, but for once Dean can´t find the energy to give her more than a perfunctory once-over, his mind already set on more important matters.

He´s late – a fact that has less to do with his unlucky run-in with a ghoul in Sacramento and way more with him driving the last fifty miles at the lowest speed possible - any slower and the car would probably have stopped altogether... It´s a little pathetic, if he´s being honest.

Truth is, he´s nervous – scratch that – he´s fucking terrified! His stomach feels like he´s eaten concrete for lunch, his hands are sweaty and gross and his hair is a freaking mess because he´s constantly pulling at it. Dean hasn’t felt this out of control since his first time playing werewolf-bait when he was eight, and right now he is seriously considering raiding his first aid kit for a tranquilizer or something, because this is getting _ridiculous_.

It´s just a party, for God´s sake, just a freaking birthday party for his baby brother – no guns, no claws, no monsters trying to gut him, just kids having fun and _him trying to_ _fit in_. So naturally he´d rather attend an ogre wedding than go and face those college kids and pretend that he´s normal and not sticking out like a sore thumb in his leather jacket and ancient combat boots. He´d probably be able to fake it under normal circumstances, but this is _Sam_ and those people are his _friends_ and Dean **cannot** screw this up. So as much as he wants to run and hide, he´ll damn well get his shit together and attend this bloody party!

_Suck it up, Winchester._

Sam´s apartment is located in one of the nicer areas of Palo Alto, the sort of place where people bake cake to welcome new neighbors and don´t think twice before allowing their kids to play on the nearby playground. It´s not white-picket-fence exactly, but it´s as close as a Winchester can get and Dean has never felt so uncomfortable in all his life.

He takes one last deep breath and lifts his hands to knock at the pristine white door, yet before he can make contact the whole thing is suddenly thrown wide open and he´s face to face with a very excited blonde chick. She freezes for a moment and her frown is enough to make his stomach turn nauseatingly, but then recognition lights up her eyes and her smile is back in full force.

“Ooooh, you must be Dean! _Jesus_ , you´re even hotter than I imagined, Sam´s descriptions really don’t do you justice... “

With that she grabs his hands and simply pulls him along, chattering enthusiastically and resolutely ignoring his half-hearted protests.

“ _So_ glad you´re finally here, your boy Sam has been pacing around the apartment for hours and it’s been driving me _fucking crazy_! Ugh, way too much pining if you ask me… I´m Jess by the way, Sam´s best friend and party manager. I´ve heard so much about you, Dean! Can´t wait to see Sam´s face when he - Jesus, where´s the idiot hiding now? He was in here not five minutes ago!”

People around them are starting to notice the new addition to their circle, curious eyes sliding all over Dean´s body, assessing and scrutinizing him. He usually doesn’t give a flying fuck what other people think of him, but trying to gain the approval of Sam´s friends?  Is seriously freaking him the hell out!

At least Jess´ complaints seem to have alerted his baby brother, because five seconds later a familiar shaggy head emerges from the room to their left.

Dean´s fingers tighten their grip on the haphazardly wrapped birthday present in his arms and he can´t take his eyes off Sam´s stupid face, wants to see the exact moment when his boy finally catches sight of him.

It´s totally worth it, the smile overtaking Sam´s face glorious and blinding, full of relief and genuine happiness. It´s one of Sammy´s private ones, meant for Dean and no one else.

 _Brother_ , he reminds himself, he´s here as Sam´s _brother,_ and shit, he should really have hurried the hell up and driven all night to allow them to meet in private first. Now he´ll have to go through hours and hours of keeping his distance, of pretending to flirt with some of the chicks in here, of _not_ kissing Sam no matter how much he wants to.

Those hazel eyes sweep over his body, no doubt trying to assess the damage he has taken on his last hunt and sure enough, immediately zoning in on the outline of gauze barely visible under his t-shirt. Dean grins to tell him that it´s only a scratch, nothing serious really, and takes another step closer so that they´re finally face to face. He knows he can´t touch Sam, not right now, not without doing something _really_ stupid like trying to kiss him, and so he simply presses his present into his brother´s hands and slaps Sam´s shoulder in greeting.

“Happy birthday, Sammy! Sorry I´m late, traffic´s a bitch…”

Sam only rolls his eyes in exasperation (and _hey_ , what has he done now?)  and pulls him in. For one tiny second Dean is sure his brother is going for a bro-hug, but then soft lips are pressing up against his own and there´s an insistent tongue sneaking its way into his mouth and yep, Sam is _kissing_ him. Kissing as in tongues-and-teeth-devouring-his-mouth. Kissing as in we-are-definitely-going-to-fuck-on-that-sofa-in-about-five-seconds. Kissing as in a-totally-inappropriate-way-to-greet-your-brother. _Shit_ , they´re so fucking screwed.

He wants to pull back, wants to shove Sammy off and joke about it, deny that this is more than a stupid prank, a lost bet. But it has been five months since their last meeting and he fucking missed this and why the hell should he care what those people think if Sam so clearly doesn’t give a shit? His body is already responding anyways, hands digging into the meat of Sam´s ass and pulling him closer, his tongue pushing against Sam´s and taking control of the kiss and for a few precious seconds he forgets that incest is wrong in most people´s eyes and that they´re about five seconds away from a major freak-out.

After what feels like seconds but is probably way longer, Sam reluctantly breaks away and smiles at him and fuck, his brother is perfect. All shiny red lips and darkening eyes, his hair askew and ruffled and absolutely gorgeous.

Then reality slams back in and Dean starts to pull away, some stupid comment already trying to slip past his lips. Sam won´t allow it, though, presses closer instead and it takes Dean a second to realize that the cat-calls and whistles around them have nothing to do with disgust, that none of Sam´s friends look repulsed or angry or on the verge of a moral breakdown.

What the actual _fuck_?!

Sam just grins and slides one possessive hand into the back pocket of Dean´s jeans before turning towards the tiny crowd surrounding them.

“You´ve probably already figured it out, but to make this more official: Guys, this is Dean. My long-distance drifter boyfriend.”

Dean´s brain freezes.

 _Boyfriend_.

There´s more cheers and teasing comments but his mind is still offline, struggling to wrap itself around that one word.

Boyfriend. Not _brother_ , _boyfriend._ Holy fuck.

Sam, the bastard, is obviously enjoying himself, clearly feeling smug about the fact that he has finally managed to render Dean absolutely speechless. As soon as his friends start to turn their focus back to their cakes and abandoned conversations, his little brother leans closer again, lips brushing Dean´s ear and warm breath heating up his skin.

“They don’t know we´re brothers, Dean. None of them do. That means we can kiss and touch and fuck as much as we want and no one here will ever suspect a damn thing. How´s that for a belated birthday present, _big brother_?”

“Jesus, Sammy…”

He pulls the idiot further down, presses their mouths together forcefully and kisses him like he´s never been able to in public. It´s deep and dirty and probably just this side of inappropriate while there´s still other people in the same room, but who the hell cares?

There´ll be more kisses tonight, dozens of them. Deep and slow and sweet and loving, kisses that will make their lips all sore and tingling and swollen. Because Dean´s allowed to do that now, is allowed to show everybody in here that Sam is _his_ , that they belong to each other.

He´s always known the kid´s a genius.


End file.
